


blood, sweat, and too many tears

by vanfeefee19



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Morality, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Staci pisses himself like 1600 words in, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27185669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanfeefee19/pseuds/vanfeefee19
Summary: Staci's legs couldn't run fast enough as he ran.Thinking back only a few minutes prior, he realized what an idiot he had been as the wolves' howl's grew louder and the crunch of boots against the forest floor grew closer.~~~Mostly canon-compliant. My version of Jacob and Staci's relationship/story.
Relationships: Staci Pratt/Jacob Seed
Kudos: 14





	blood, sweat, and too many tears

**Author's Note:**

> I DO NOT SUPPORT ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS/MURDER/TORTURE. I have intrusive thoughts, and when my meds don't work right, writing them down helps. All comments/kudos appreciated and welcomed.

Staci's legs couldn't run fast enough as he ran. 

Thinking back only a few minutes prior, he realized what an idiot he had been as the wolves' howl's grew louder and the crunch of boots against the forest floor grew closer. 

Jacob had put Staci in a room, far off in the corner of the basement of the old Veterans' Center not soon after they had arrived. Staci's face had barely stopped bleeding from the crash only a few hours before, still sensitive and raw as he had been tied to an old exposed pipe. 

"Oh, stop crying," Jacob had drawled, voice deep and quiet as he stood. "You'll thank me later when you really wish for tears."

Staci had only waited a few minutes after the door had closed before he started struggling against the rope. He hadn't thought to question why he had seen all the other prisoners that had been bound with handcuffs over their wrists instead of rope, like his were. He didn't question why the door had been unlocked as he scampered out of it, sneaking up a staircase whose emptiness went unquestioned as well. 

All in all, he decided that he hated panic-brain Staci, and that he was a grade-A idiot, but this was already a well-known fact. The sirens behind him were imposing as they blared out the call to hunt the deputy. 

How far had he really thought he could go? He let out a sharp cry as a heavy weight slammed down onto his back. It didn't matter that a hand on the back of his head was pushing his face into the dirt, keeping him from seeing who his captor was- he heard him. 

Jacob let out a cruel laugh as the hounds circled them, biting at Staci and snarling so close that he could hear their teeth click. "Clearly you didn't think this through, huh, Peaches? Didn't you hear me when I said 'stay?'" Let's get one thing straight." He ripped his head back, fingers coiling tightly in Staci's hair as he let out a cry. "When I give you an order, you obey it."  
Jacob laughed again as he stood, yanking Staci to his feet and shoving him forward. "Walk," he commanded, bringing out a pistol and waving it in the air. "Or do I need to further motivate you?"

He did not, in fact, need to use the pistol, as Staci had already given up on fighting. He willingly walked back to the Center, staying close to the side of Jacob. Staci kept his eyes trained on the ground in front of him, ignoring his drying mouth and the faint music he could hear coming from a nearby radio. 

He ignored the mocking taunts that the stupid Peggies they passed gave up. One had even tripped him. Staci only allowed himself to let out a soft grunt as he landed on his side. He winced when he moved to stand, already feeling his hip and elbow bruise. Accidentally, he looked up at Jacob as he stood, and saw a disappointed look. It reminded him of the look his aunt and uncle had given him when he was little, when they first took him in. It made Staci feel sick to his stomach, because while his aunt and uncle’s eyes had worry and love behind them, Jacob’s were empty. Like he was faking every emotion and action he made. Staci asked himself why he expected anything better; the man literally was part of a dangerous cult and had taken him hostage. Of course the Seeds could fake it.

He shook his head as they began to walk again, pushing his thoughts aside. Now was not the time to think about the personality traits that came with being this fucked up. Right now, he just needed to focus on surviving the next few minutes.

Jacob pushed open a door, using an arm to hold it open. "We're here." He looked at the deputy, his face now blank, waiting for him to move.

Staci walked in after a moment’s hesitation, briefly looking around the room. It was as dilapidated as the rest of the building; old wood paneling bordered the lower half of the walls, a peeling, yellowed paint above it. There was a screen against one of the walls, with what looked to be blood or some other bodily fluid splattered all over it. Someone looked to have definitely used blood to finger-paint the words “ONLY YOU” in a sickening dark red. A projector was on the other side of the room, the beam of light from it painting a still of a wolf along the screen. Beside it sat three chairs, vaguely similar to an old dentist’s chair Staci remembered from an antique store he had gone to once upon a time. Blackout curtains lined the windows, keeping the room dark.

Jacob pushed him in further, towards one of the chairs. He got a closer inspection of them, and saw straps along the armrest and legs of the chairs, as well as bolts keeping them to the floor. Well, shit. Staci hadn’t expected anything better from the redhead, but that certainly didn’t mean he was pleased to have his fears of torture confirmed. 

Seed ordered him to sit, and Staci obliged him, remembering the incident earlier. He tried not to think about how his arms and legs were going numb, about the vomit he could feel rising in the back of his throat. He tried desperately to slow his quickening breaths as Jacob strapped him into the chair tightly. Staci didn’t need to tug on them to know he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

Jacob stood, and crept around his chair like he was a predator in hunt for his prey. Staci swallowed deeply as he stopped behind him, keeping his eyes glued to the ground in front of him. He gasped sharply as Jacob suddenly grabbed onto his hair and ripped his head back. His eyes weren’t empty anymore; they looked hungry, and manic, and excited. 

“Disobeying an order like you did cannot go ignored, Peaches.” Peaches? What the ever-loving fuck was up with this dude? Staci huffed lightly, now frustrated. He was already self conscious of his first name, and his last name was printed on the badge resting on his chest. Couldn’t Jacob just be normal for three seconds and use ‘Pratt,’ or was that asking too much? “You were bad. You need to be punished for that.”

He let go of his hair, sauntering in front of him, and kneeling down so he was eye level with Staci. “You see, good behavior means rewards. Only you can choose to be bad. Only you can choose to listen to me, to behave well.” He paused for a moment, that fake disappointed look returning to his face again. “It was very stupid of you to choose to be bad. You aren’t stupid, are you, Peaches? I know you can do better, know you can be good for me. It’s why I told Joseph to let me have you. You’re not like the other deputies, huh? You’re special.”

Staci briefly wondered where the hell this was going. He kept his eyes on Jacob’s army jacket, pretending to listen fully. He noticed the pink scarring that dusted along the right side of his neck and face, now that he was close enough for his eyes to focus in his panic. “If you had been good, I was going to let you have some food and water. I suppose you’ll learn your lesson in a few days.”

Staci began to panic more, clenching and unclenching his jaw as Jacob stood straight, and pulled a small box from his pocket. “Did you know the human body can last three days without water? Up to forty with no food. It’s amazing, really.” He turned a knob on the side of the box, Staci recognizing the familiar grinding noise as one from a music box.

“This is my favorite song, wanna know why?” Jacob let go of the knob, and a song that sounded similar to 50’s love ballads started to play. And no, Staci did not care why this freak liked it. Jacob quietly sang along to it for a moment, the lyrics matching the words painted onto the wall behind him. “Only you can make decisions for yourself. Only you could have chosen to misbehave earlier. Only you could have made the decision to get into that chopper, to try and steal my brother away. Only you could have chosen to enter this room and sit down willingly.” Willingly, Staci’s ass. There was no other choice he had if he wanted to try and survive.

“Only you can prove to me that you’ll be good. Only you can make that decision.” He sat the music box down on the table in front of Staci, his pistol laying beside it. As it started to slow down, Staci heard the ‘click’ of Jacob hitting a button on a computer, and the song continued on speakers somewhere behind him. “But only I can decide to bring you food. Maybe this song will teach you a thing or two,” he commented, walking to the door and beginning to shut it.

“W-wait,” Staci felt a surge of fear as he realized what was happening. Why had his brain been so slow? “Wait! No- no, don’t leave me!” He began to tug at the straps, despite its futility. 

Jacob chuckled at his sudden, panicked struggle. “See you later, Peaches. Don’t have too much fun.”

Staci felt himself begin to hyperventilate, looking around the room for anything to help him. He tried to bend down to bite at the straps on his arms, but the thick belt holding his chest to the back of the chair only let him move so much. He felt his mind race as the song continued to play, seemingly on a loop.

\----

Staci felt like shit.

Sometime after what he assumed was around 16 hours of him being there, he lost control of his bladder, so the rest of the time had seemed even longer and more uncomfortable with his hot-but-now-cold-and-sticky uniform pants. He had slept sporadically, waking up at every scream he heard emanate from behind the door. He was hungry, and so thirsty that he had stopped salivating for many hours now. He felt dizzy, and his head hurt, but all he could think of was the damn song that haunted his mind. It was ignorable at first, but after the first few times he had woken up to it, it was annoying. Its repetition and Staci’s brain’s anticipation of the next stanza drowned out the rest of his other thoughts. 

He jerked his head up as the door knob turned, wincing in pain as his head screamed at the sharp movement and light shining through the door. Jacob walked in, a brown paper sack in his hand, and a water bottle under his arm. Immediately, Staci was sitting up, straining against his bonds as Jacob shut the door and sat on the table in front of him.

Jacob put the sack down on the table, beside him, the gun, and the music box that remained open but mute. Staci’s eyes followed the movement for only a second, staying glued to the water bottle as Jacob twisted it open. “I’ll be honest, Peaches. You look like hell.” Jacob spoke low, and Staci’s brain seemed to have to work in overdrive to distinguish the words from the song. 

Staci grunted, throat swallowing around nothing as Jacob drank selfishly from the bottle. It was torture in and of itself for him to waste the stream that escaped from the side of his mouth, going down his chin and into his beard. It dripped lightly onto his shirt- no military jacket today, it seemed. Jacob pulled the bottle away from his mouth, lips smacking loudly as he smiled, all teeth and evil, and looked at Staci again.

“Have you decided to be good, Peaches?” Staci nodded desperately, swallowing dryly once more.

“Y-yes, sir.” His voice was raw from disuse, and he gasped as his head throbbed from the action. “Yes, I’ll be good, I-I swear. Please!” Staci felt pathetic, begging this man for mercy. He felt like he could have cried from frustration if his body had been able to. 

“Hmm.” Jacob stood, and took two steps until the tips of his boots were flush with Staci’s. “Open up.”

Staci didn’t need to be told twice, as he opened his mouth to accept the liquid water-falling onto his face. It spilled onto his chest, soaking the dry, top part of his uniform. Staci couldn’t get enough as Jacob emptied the water bottle, gasping after he swallowed the last of it. He knew he still needed more, but knew better still to not ask.

Jacob returned to the table, laying the emptied bottle down. He picked up the sack, and pulled out a sandwich. From the smell of it, tuna salad. Normal-Staci hated tuna salad, but hostage-Staci would have been grateful for peanut butter at that point, and he was allergic. 

Jacob took a big bite out of the sandwich, chewing loudly, and spoke with his mouth full. “I was gracious to give you water after you being so bad, yes?” He swallowed the food after chewing it another moment, but took another bite to replace it. “Only you convinced me you could be good for me.” Only you, only you, only you. Fuck that stupid song. “But I don’t think you’ve proved whether or not you deserve food.”

Staci made a frustrated noise, eyes darting between Jacob’s and the sandwich. “Sir, please! Please give me another chance!” He didn’t know how many more days Jacob would wait before deciding to visit again, and he hadn’t eaten the morning before the attempt to arrest Joseph. How many more days would he go without food?

Jacob threw the sandwich onto the table, and swallowed what he had been chewing. He got up, and crouched down to be even with Staci again. “I need you to be strong. Joseph wants me to keep you alive, but if you’re weak, I will have to kill you. There’s no excuse for weakness. But don’t worry, Peaches.” Jacob lifted Staci’s head by his chin, using his pointer finger to bring their faces closer yet. “I’ll make you strong. Bring them in!” 

He stood straight, and walked over to the projector. The door opened again, and two Peggies led another two captives into the room, and strapped them to the chairs in front of Staci. They looked worse than he did, missing teeth and stringy, oily hair reminding him of the meth-heads he often dealt with on the other side of the trailer park where he lived. Another ‘click’ sounded off, and the still of the wolf on the screen in front of them changed to photos of various scenes of wolves eviscerating prey.

Staci heard Jacob move behind him again, and he closed his eyes as Jacob held his head against the headrest as he wrapped it with another strap. After he was content with Staci’s lack of mobility, he slapped his cheek playfully. “I want you to think long and hard about what you did. You need to be good for me. Only you can decide whether you will or not, though.” 

Staci whimpered in frustration as Jacob led the Peggies out, pausing by a panel beside the screen, and hitting another button. A low ‘hiss’ seemed to come from somewhere in the room, and Jacob paused on his way out. “Faith seemed confident in this batch. So far it’s helped make my soldiers strong, but what about you, Peaches? At the end of the day, I guess you’re still only meat for the wolves.”

The door clicked shut, and Staci’s head began to fog even more. His eyes darted around the room as the minutes ticked on, an odd smell of whatever gas was now smothering the room tickling the back of his throat, and worsening his headache. Sandwich, wolf, Only You, gun, water bottle, door, Only You, intestines, Peggie, sandwich again, door, wrists, gun, Peggie, blood, blood, Only You, blood. It felt like days sprinted past Staci as the fog worsened with his headache, the speakers seeming to get louder as he drifted in and out of consciousness, the only changes happening when another random Peggie would bring them water every day or so. 

Staci felt wrong and gross when Jacob’s voice echoed over a loudspeaker in the room, jolting him awake. Fucking “Only You” was still playing as he looked around, realizing the only thing left on the table was the gun, and that his straps had been undone. 

“If you want me to feed you, Peaches, you gotta show me you’re strong. Leave no other man standing.”

Staci stood, and grabbed the gun. An order was an order, and after weeks of hunger, he was desperate. Nothing was the same anymore, and even though he didn’t view himself as the strongest man ever, he wasn’t going to put these strangers before himself. 

He fired the gun twice. Nothing. The others turned to nothing in a puff of smoke, and Staci felt nothing. The door creaked open, and he felt something dark inside him wake up. Only you, only you, guts, blood, he needed to be good if he wanted to survive.


End file.
